Kyan Pepper was there also, not yet fully recovered from the surprise which Lavinia's gracious permission had given him. Abishai had been leaning disconsolately over his front gate early that morning when Noah Ellis, the lightkeeper, jogged down the lane.
“'Mornin', 'Bish,” hailed Noah, pulling up his horse. “What's the matter? You look bluer'n a spiled mack'rel. What's the row? Breakfast disagree with you?”
“Naw,” replied Kyan shortly. “Where you bound, all rigged up in your shore duds?”
“Bound to Bayport, to see Nat Hammond land,” was the cheerful answer. “I ain't had a day off I don't know when, and I thought I'd take one. Be great doin's over there, they tell me. Elkanah's goin' to make a speech and there's eighteen teams of folks goin'.”
“I know it. I wisht I was goin', too, but I never have no fun. Have to stay to home and work and slave over them consarned tax papers. Sometimes I wish there wa'n't no taxes.”
“Humph! I've wished that, myself, more'n once. Why don't you go, if you want to? Climb right aboard here with me. Plenty of room.”
“Hey? You mean that? By godfreys mighty! I'd like to.”
“Sartin, I mean it. Come ahead.”
Mr. Pepper sadly shook his head. “I guess likely I'd better not,” he sighed. “Laviny might not like to have me leave her.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks! she won't mind. I'll take care of you. It's perfectly safe. There ain't goin' to be no women around. Haw! haw! haw!”